


has your life ever been so utterly out of focus?

by lonelyheartsclub_com



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:13:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29246367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyheartsclub_com/pseuds/lonelyheartsclub_com
Summary: henry never quite got the way of the world. now she seems to get it, and she doesn't like what she sees.
Kudos: 8





	has your life ever been so utterly out of focus?

**Author's Note:**

> tw // falling from a drastic height, graphic descriptions of someone smashing their head open

Henry never liked the bitter taste of tears, nor the feel. The way that the stabbing sensation of pain, or anger, or sadness would creep through your whole body. Until the only thing you could do was scrunch your face up and cry. 

The ambulance came down to get Verity, her head smashed in. 

It wasn't fair, really. 

Nothing was ever fair, of course. Nothing was fucking fair for people like Henry anyways, so why did this have to hurt so much?

Why did losing the only person she allowed herself to trust hurt so much?

She could still see Verity, as if she were alive. Could still see her clutching her lacrosse stick, nudging Henry with it and telling her to get inside because it was cold and she'd be late for practice. Could see her twirling a plait between her slender fingers, a laugh on her lips at a joke Henry had made. 

She could still see Verity, as if Verity was still there, but she wasn't. 

"Henrietta? Please come inside, we're dreadfully sorry about what happened to Miss Abraham." a teacher shouted, but Henry couldn't hear her voice properly. She sat on the floor, pulling a cigarette out of her breast pocket of her blazer, lighting it whilst her hands shook. 

She breathed in and out, closing her eyes. 

Verity liked to joke with Henry, liked to scare her. She'd dance around on the roof, on her tiptoes, and Henry would warn her to get down from there, but she'd still dance around, humming a pretty tune, assuring Henry she was fine. And so Henry believed she was fine. 

But now she was not. 

What was left of Verity still looked like her, to an extent. 

They let her see Verity in the ambulance.

She had a quaint frown on her face that would, in essence, be there forever. Her long, curly, dark hair stuck together, cemented eternally by the blood that had seeped out of her head where she'd clocked it on the floor. Her skin had gone a slab, pale grey, almost like cement. It made Henry feel sick, because it looked just like Verity, but distorted. 

"I never wanted to grow up, Ver, and here's your reason why."

Henry wanted to stay at Deepdean forever, and she and Verity could be like Miss Tennyson and Miss Bell, live in a house down the street and teach, not listening to the rumors about them. They'd live forever in the memory of each other.

No one ever said forever was that long anyways.


End file.
